


Tony Stark Doesn't Get Sick (a lie, obviously)

by autisticrick



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Because that's what this is, Caring Peter, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Sick Tony Stark, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whump, i have literally never written anything below explicit before this and here i am, is there a pwp for fluff, this is so tame it's practically gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticrick/pseuds/autisticrick
Summary: Tony Stark claims to have never taken a sick day (voluntarily, anyway). He's still human, though, and therefore just as vulnerable to all manner of diseases that would leave him incapacitated. Peter, his caring boyfriend, will of course make sure he gets better andnotworse.





	Tony Stark Doesn't Get Sick (a lie, obviously)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this some months ago for someone on Discord who was having a bad day. And someone on Tumblr said they were having a bad day, so I figured it was time to post to Ao3. So maybe YOU'RE having a bad day and just want to read about Peter taking care of Tony; have at it, my friend. Nothing but fluff here. :)

Peter had been working in the lab for a few hours when Tony had stumbled in. He didn't look _drunk_, per say, but he didn't look all that great either.

"Tony, are you alright?" Peter asks, face etched with worry as the older man struggles to keep upright. Tony's making a valiant effort to snort up all his snot away, but the boy can see how red his eyes and nose are. "You look like you really should be in bed, Tony." He hurries over to keep him from falling down.

"I'b--_sniff_\--I'm _fine_, kid. Just a heb--haa_choooo!!_\--cole," Tony barely gets out. Peter doesn't believe him for a second.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you give me a readout of Mr. Stark's current relevant vitals?" Peter asks of the A.I. as he leads Tony to sit on a stool so he can go look for the first aid kit. The older man snorts indignantly, which has less of its desired effect when he manages to blow a huge snot bubble with his nose on the exhale.

"I _tolb _you, Pebe, I'm--"

"Boss' current temperature is approximately 101F. Heart rate and blood pressure normal. He has vomited three times over the past 12 hours and fluids are low. Bedrest and Vitamin C highly recommended," the robotic voice replies with just a hint of concern in her tone.

"_Traibor_," Tony mutters, crossing his arms like a child. Peter rolls his eyes as he comes back with a glass of water and some tablets.

He puts the tablets in the water and they start to dissolve. "Start drinking once they've been completely absorbed," Peter instructs as he holds the back of his hand to Tony's forehead. The older man just glares, and they both know it's a completely unnecessary gesture, however, his younger boyfriend doesn't really care at the moment. Peter has gone straight into ‘mothering’ mode.

"Wow, FRIDAY was right, you _are_ burning up."

"Thabs, nurse--hhhh_chuu_!!--Parber," Tony attempts through more snot and his own eye roll.

"Hey Peter, would you like me to initiate the 'sick day' protocol?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks, which causes Tony to groan. Peter raises a brow and smiles.

"Why, yes I would," he says looking straight at his boyfriend with the most shit-eating grin Tony has ever seen on Peter. The older man’s glare falls flat when he sneezes once again. “Bless you,” Peter murmurs with a grimace as he starts wiping his face with some tissues he got from his backpack. "Can you tell me what that entails?"

"Sure thing, Peter! The 'sick day' protocol will allow me to inform all of the Boss' closest associates as well as S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers that he is, under no circumstances, allowed to do any physical labor or mentally taxing work of any kind for the next 24 hours. As Boss' 'current significant other,' you are the only person capable of overriding or initiating it. Would you like to initiate?"

"Yes," Peter replies immediately. He smiles at Tony, who looks away when he notices his younger boyfriend is tearing up just a little bit. "And extend it for another 48 hours, while you're at it," he adds, which causes the older man to grumble.

"You got it!"

Tony is still making a half-hearted attempt to glare. "What--_sniff_\--you're nob--sniff--gonna ask her to make me somb--a_CHOO_\--chickeb nooble soup?" Peter hands him another tissue when he sees him about to wipe his nose on his sleeve. He grabs it, still indignant.

"No," Peter says sternly. He points to the glass of water, which has now turned a light orange. Tony picks it up and drinks a mouthful, albeit reluctantly. "I'm gonna text May for her recipe and make it from scratch."

Tony tries for indignant again, but Peter doesn't miss the blush on his face. "Whateber, Peber."

"Let's get you into you bed, okay?" Peter says as he tries to help Tony stands up. But the older man shoos his younger boyfriend's hands away. Tony makes a face like he wants to make an inappropriate comment about getting Peter in his bed as well, but when he tries to stand up too quickly on his own, he stumbles; Peter is there to catch him, thankfully.

"_Drink_," he demands of Tony, bringing the glass to his boyfriend's mouth. "The _whole _thing, Tony," Peter adds when the older man takes another tentative sip. Tony snatches it right out of the younger's hand and downs the whole thing in one gulp. 

"Good boy," Peter praises when his boyfriend finishes. He smooths down Tony's matted-looking hair affectionately. His hand flinches away when he feels it's got some crusty chunks in it. "Bath first, I think." He shakes out his hand with a grossed-out face, which causes Tony to laugh.

"Gimme a break, kid," he replies, sinus sounding a little clearer. "I’m a little rusty--_sniff_\--and haven't practiced my post-vomit self-care in a while." Peter can't help but smile back.

"But you also never had _me_ to rely on to clean you up," he quips back. Before Tony can respond, Peter hauls him into his arms bridal style. "So don't worry about it and let me take care of you," he adds, in a soft and loving tone.

Tony's grumbling again and refuses to look Peter in the eyes. But the younger man eventually feels his older boyfriend relax in his arms and let himself be carried up to their shared bedroom in the penthouse.

Once they get up there, Tony gets more insistent about Peter letting him down, but the boy refuses to set him on the ground until he's opened the door to their huge bathroom and can set his boyfriend down gently onto the toilet seat.

"There we go," Peter coos. "How’re you feeling?" He asks as he untucks Tony's shirt so he can pull it over his head.

"Fine enough to undress myself, thanks," he grumbles. He gives a grumpy sniffle, but Tony obediently lifts his hands without Peter asking. He manages to get off his socks and shoes without further comment.

When Peter starts unbuttoning the older man's slacks, Tony notices his boyfriend using his phone with his other hand.

"Texting your younger and less disease-prone friends?" The older man remarks, sounding more jealous than cutting. Peter snickers as he manages to undo Tony's fly one-handed.

"I'm asking May for her mother’s chicken soup recipe," Peter replies neutrally. He looks back up so he can put his phone down on the counter. When he starts tugging Tony's pants down, all it takes is a stern glance from Peter for the older man to lift off the seat so he can pull them down and off.

When Tony sits back down on the toilet, he suddenly realizes how incredibly vulnerable he is in just his boxers. Especially since Peter is still fully clothed. The boy seems to realize it as well as he looks away, though Tony can see the blush creeping up the back of his neck.

"I think you can handle the rest," Peter says shyly as he turns away to turn on the water. "Don't need you getting distracted from getting better," he mutters as he turns on the faucets to Tony's massive bathtub.

The older man smirks, pushing himself off the seat (slower this time, so he doesn't lose his balance) and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend from behind.

He leans down into Peter's ear to whisper, "What if I _want_ to be distracted?" But the seductiveness of his tone is lost when Tony sneezes right into Peter's hair.

"Eww, Tony!" He whines as he pushes the older man off of his back. "Getting snot in my hair is _not_ sexy!" Tony pouts. "Do you want me getting sick, too?" The older man shakes his head. But he won't be taken down so easily.

"Now I guess you'll have to take the bath with me, huh?" Tony tries taking Peter in his arms again, but he's easily blocked. The young man turns around to face him.

"_I _have chicken stock to make, Tony." Peter says as he makes his way to the utility closet. "What bubble bath scent do you want?" Tony rolls his eyes, but Peter seems to sense it when he gripes back, "Why would you have so many in _your_ personal bathroom if you're not gonna use them?"

"Lavender," Tony sighs as he strips of his boxers. "But the name brand one, not the generic kind from Duane Reade," he adds quickly. Peter pulls out a transparent plastic bottle with a lot of French writing, which he shows to Tony to confirm. "Yeah, yeah, that's the one."

Peter smiles at his boyfriend, though it's far more sweet than it is mocking. "I like the idea of you smelling like something other than sweat and grease metal." Tony tries to embrace him again, but Peter moves past his older boyfriend over to the tub. "Or vomit and snot."

He starts emptying the bottle under the water, Tony lets out a small "hmpf!" that sounds gross and full of mucus. Peter just shakes his head.

"I don't know what that noise was _supposed_ to be, but it's not going to convince me that you aren't sick."

"I don't get--_sniff_\--sick, Peter," Tony says, although he doesn't sound entirely convinced of his own words. "I haven't taken a sick day since before you hit puberty."

"Well, then it was about time you did." Once Peter's satisfied with the amount of bubbles forming, he caps the bottle and turns back to Tony. "You'll feel so good after your bath. And then I'll bring your soup, okay?”

“_Fine_,” Tony pouts, but softens when Peter leans up to give him a light kiss on the lips.

“And drink some water if I’m not back by the time you’re done,” the boy adds as he heads for the door. He opens it, about to leave, when he turns his head back to say, “_No_ alcohol. That’ll just make you dehydrated,” in a no-nonsense tone. Tony rolls his eyes, but nods his head.

“Yes, _dear_,” he says before stepping into the water. Peter’s eyes linger on his boyfriend’s arched back for just a moment when Tony lets out a loud groan of pleasure from the water’s temperature. But he leaves, closing the door behind him before the older man can catch him staring.

Tony spends about 3 hours in the bath. When he finally gets out, the bubbles have long since dissipated, the lavender smell is fading from his skin, and the pads of his fingers are beyond pruned. Although he does feel...less gross, at the very least. He hates to admit it, but Peter was certainly right about it making him feel better.

Maybe Tony will even be able to convince Peter to take off the extension to his forced bed rest (but he’s also glad Pepper had no illusions about their relationship when she set up the protocol’s controller to be fluid). He fills up a glass with tap water as he towels himself off.

Just as Tony’s putting on a fresh pair of pajamas (he had been considering insisting he _could_ work, but now he honestly just wanted to pass out), Peter comes in with a food tray in hand.

“Oh, good! Why don’t you get settled into bed, Tony?” Peter says, smiling as he settles the tray with the soup on the floor near the foot of his bed. Tony comes over, makes to hug and kiss his boyfriend but he has to stop him. “Sorry, babe. If I get sick, I won’t be able to take care of you.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself for almost 50 years, Pete, I think I can handle a little--_sniff_\--cold,” Tony says as he gets under the covers.

“And I think even _you_ will admit that you haven’t done a very good job of that all the time,” Peter retorts as he goes to pick back up the tray. Tony sighs, but nods in reluctant agreement. “Exactly.” He settles the tray on top of Tony’s lap and kisses his forehead.

“Are you going to tuck me in, too?” Tony asks smugly. Peter shrugs.

“Only if you want.” Peter gives another kiss to Tony’s forehead, and this time Tony leans up into it. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., vitals?”

“Temperature 100F, blood pressure normal, heart rate slightly elevated. The soup should give Boss more energy, but bed rest still highly recommended.” 

“Thank you,” Peter says, honestly grateful as he closes his eyes and presses his forehead into his boyfriend’s. Tony closes his eyes as well, blushing when he realizes why his heart rate is elevated.

“I don’t deserve you, Peter,” Tony mutters. “You’re too good for me.” Peter huffs out a laugh.

“You’re probably right about that.” Tony opens his eyes, rolling them. “Eat your soup,” Peter nods toward the bowel in front of him. “But I probably don’t deserve you either,” he adds, giving another kiss to Tony’s forehead as he makes an exaggerated noise of approval for his soup.

“You made this from _scratch_?” Tony exclaims as he takes another spoonful. Peter stands up and off the bed, beaming.

“Sure did!” Peter smooths back Tony’s still-damp hair. “Try not to eat too fast, though. Don’t want you hocking it all up again.” He scolds softly as his older boyfriend looks to be trying to shovel everything in his mouth at once.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tony responds in a mocking tone, but sets the spoon down. “Seriously, Peter. You didn’t--_sniff_\--you didn’t have to do all of this.” Peter shrugs again, and it’s entirely too light for the older man’s liking.

“I guess. But I figure you’d do the same for me.” Peter plants one last forehead kiss on Tony’s head before heading for the door. “Oh, and one other thing?”

Tony looks looks up from his second spoonful. “Hmm?”

“I talked to Pepper and she recommended I add some security measures,” Peter says with a smirk and Tony groans. “Don’t try to get out of this room if you know what’s good for you,” he says as he’s leaving.

“Guess I have to leave what’s good for me up to you now, huh, Peter?” Tony quips before Peter is out of sight. But he can see that warm smile through the crack of the door, and hears his boyfriend’s sweet laugh before it’s muted by the wall. He may be sick, but he’ll always get in the last word if he can.


End file.
